I still remember the first time I saw Ja Morant's college highlights pop up on my Twitter feed. As someone who's followed basketball for over two decades, I thought I'd seen every type of prospect imaginable. But there was something different about this kid from Murray State that made me sit up straight. The way he moved reminded me of watching a young Russell Westbrook, except with this uncanny court vision that felt more like Chris Paul. What struck me most was how he seemed to defy physics - his vertical leap measured at 44 inches during combine testing, putting him in the 99th percentile for NBA guards.
The journey from relative obscurity to the second overall pick happened faster than anyone could have predicted. Just two years earlier, Morant was barely on NBA radars, receiving zero Division I scholarship offers until Murray State assistant James Kane stumbled upon him at a summer camp. I've always been fascinated by these discovery stories - they remind me that talent can emerge from anywhere. In his sophomore season, he became the first player in NCAA history to average 20 points and 10 assists per game, putting up 24.5 points and 10 assists exactly while shooting 49% from the field. Those numbers still blow my mind when I think about them.
There's a particular quality to players who come from smaller programs that I find incredibly compelling. They play with this chip on their shoulder that you don't always see from blue-blood prospects. Watching Morant dismantle higher-profile opponents felt like witnessing something special in the making. His 17-point, 11-rebound, 16-assist triple-double against Marquette in the NCAA tournament wasn't just statistically impressive - it was a statement. I remember thinking during that game, "This kid isn't just good for a mid-major player, he's legitimately one of the best prospects I've seen in years."
The draft process itself created this fascinating tension between him and Zion Williamson. While everyone was understandably mesmerized by Zion's physical dominance, I found myself increasingly drawn to Morant's complete package. His combination of elite athleticism and sophisticated playmaking felt rarer in today's game. Teams looking for franchise cornerstones don't often find players who can both electrify crowds with highlight-reel dunks and systematically pick apart defenses with precision passing.
What really sealed it for me was watching his pre-draft workouts. The burst, the body control, the way he processed the game - it all translated. I've seen countless prospects look great in college but struggle with the NBA's speed and spacing. With Morant, everything suggested he'd not only adapt but thrive. His ability to change speeds reminded me of prime Derrick Rose, and that's not a comparison I make lightly.
The Grizzlies' decision to select him second overall made perfect basketball sense, though I'll admit I was curious how he'd handle the pressure of being the face of a franchise so early. Memphis needed a star, and Morant had that undeniable "it" factor that transcends statistics. Looking back now, it's remarkable how quickly he validated their faith. His rookie season numbers - 17.8 points and 7.3 assists per game - only told part of the story. The way he commanded respect from veterans and elevated his teammates confirmed everything scouts had hoped for.
There's something about underdog stories that resonates deeply in basketball culture. Morant's rise from unknown recruit to top draft pick embodies that narrative perfectly. While Zion deservedly grabbed headlines, I've always believed the most exciting pick isn't necessarily the most hyped one, but the one with the greatest potential to reshape a franchise. For Memphis, that was absolutely Morant. His combination of raw athletic tools and sophisticated feel for the game created this rare ceiling that few prospects ever reach.
Thinking back to that draft night, what stands out most wasn't the surprise of his selection - everyone knew he was going second - but the palpable sense that something special was beginning. The NBA always needs new stars, and Morant had all the ingredients to become exactly that. His journey from Murray State to Memphis represented everything I love about basketball: the unpredictability, the discovery of hidden gems, and the constant renewal of talent that keeps the game fresh and exciting year after year.
